Language of Flowers
by Fishing Eagle
Summary: Sets of drabbles. Flowers and plants have meanings and as such, we use them to say things we might not say out loud. Ch. 2: Phariseer visits and Ursa has a nightmare.
1. Chapter 1: Christmas (OC x Judicator)

"A gift for you. I thought it was appropriate considering your seasonal festivities." A small bouquet of flowers, leaves and berries entwined with a strip of old cloth appeared in his hand, "Plants do not stay alive for long in the dead kingdom." The judge added with some remorse.

"It's alright." Ursa took the dried bouquet that Judicator had summoned, her heart warming as she identified each plant and its meaning, "Gorse, endearing affection. Dogwood, durability. Cedar for strength." She paused as her finger stroked the delicate leaflets, "What is this? This looks like a type of fern, but not quite."

"Locust leaves." The judge of souls replied.

"Affection from beyond the grave." Ursa finished softly. She smiled affectionately at the spirit leaning halfway out of her mirror, "Ever the poet you are, Judicator. I didn't think you'd read that book."

He chuckled at that, "I had time while we were living in your home."

She nearly missed the small sprig of leaves and white berries, "And this… mistletoe?"

"I suppose you know what it means." he replies, his eyes bright with mirth.

"I surmount all difficulties and…" She then laughed brightly, "Judicator! You are so cheeky! Come here, you." Leaning over the sink, Ursa planted a firm kiss on his cheek. A gentle touch made her look up, locking gazes with her ghostly visitor. She blushed as he deftly plucked the sprig of green and white berries from her hand and tucked it behind her ear, his caress lingering on her skin. Ursa tilted upwards, closing her eyes and kissed him again, this time stealing a kiss from his mouth, "Jokes aside, thank you for the gift. It's really lovely of you."

Tenderly cupping her cheek with his hand, Judicator pressed his forehead against hers affectionately, "You are welcome. Merry Christmas, my dear Ursa."


	2. Nightmare (OC x Phariseer)

_You are safe with me…._

Ursa gasped as she woke up in a cold sweat, tears running down her face. Fear and confusion running high through her veins.

"Ursa! Ursa!" someone was shaking her shoulder. She threw herself backwards with a screech, nearly falling off her bed had not, whoever that was, quickly grabbed her and pulled her back. She curled up into herself, tense and frightened.

"Who…?" she whimpered. Phariseer cursed under his breath when he heard her. The normally composed woman was an emotional wreck.

"It is I, Phariseer."

Ursa blinked and wiped her eyes, "Phariseer?"

"Phariseer!" she launched herself at him, burying her face against his neck, and started sobbing, "Dear god, you're here! You're here! I thought you guys were dead!"

The spectre froze, surprised by her action and by what she said. Dead? What did she mean by that? They were technically dead for countless ages now by definition. Phariseer slowly put his arms around the woman, feeling unsure of what to do. Whatever that nightmare was, it affected her badly. He was no good at comforting distraught souls; that was more of Judicator's realm of abilities.

"Ursa…. She-bear…" He felt her cling tighter as sobs wracked her body.

"You all died!" she cried, "I was all alone! I'm so scared…"

Phariseer sighed as he allowed his armor to dissolve away, letting Ursa lean into him, "Hush now. I am here, Ursa. The others are well." He started to stroke along her back as he had seen Judicator had done when Ursa fell asleep on him. It wasn't long before her crying died away and her body start to relax to his relief.

"She-bear…" he murmured.

Ursa still tucked herself close to him, "Hm?" she replied without looking

"Why did you say that we died? We are the dead lords, after all." He asked.

Ursa let out a shaky breath, "You died, I don't know…." There was distress in her eyes when she looked up at him, "You all burned up into nothing. Gone… And… And I couldn't find you… I tried, but I…" Phariseer tightened his grip on her. That sounded eerily like when they had been banished to eternal torment by the Lord of Bones.

She continued, "I was trying to look for you guys. It was dark, it was nothing. I couldn't hear you, I couldn't see you! It was so empty… and I was so alone. Then something chased me… I don't know…" Her voice hitched at the end, slowly breaking. At that point, Phariseer had curled around her, caging her with his body as if to protect her from outside forces. He rested his chin on her head, "We are not going anywhere, Ursa." He whispered fiercely, "You are under our protection, we will not let anything harm you."

The dead lord laid down onto the bed with Ursa next to him, tucked her body flush against himself, wrapping an arm around her protectively.

"Sleep. I will watch over you." He rumbled lowly.

"Phariseer, promise me…, take care of yourselves…" she pleaded, clutching his shirt, "Please…"

He huffed against her hair, "Of course. Now sleep, Ursa."

She slowly settled into the crook of his neck and soon fell asleep again.

The next morning, she woke up in bed alone, but relaxed and refreshed. Her hand went to grab her glasses from her dresser when it closed around a small bunch of leaves and berries. Ursa sat up and looked at the plant more closely.

Mountain ash…

Ursa smiled.

 _Thank you, Phariseer…_


End file.
